


A Second Chance...

by StarlessSkies



Series: Arthur Morgan/Reader [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: F/M, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlessSkies/pseuds/StarlessSkies
Summary: What if somehow, things could change and Arthur got a second chance at life?





	A Second Chance...

**Author's Note:**

> So this is inspired by a recent ask I saw on Tumblr about Francis Sinclair time traveling to bring back a cure for Arthur and I love the idea as crazy as it sounds…so I wrote this. It’s terrible but I can dream right??

It was over finally over; everyone had gotten away. Moving on to live a better life just as you and Arthur had wanted. The deceivers were dead and the innocent that fell could finally rest. But as you stood in front of the small cabin in the woods; the rain thrashing against the trees lines and soaking you through to the bone, you knew you couldn’t turn back now.

“Y/N…” Arthur croaked, his lungs straining with each breath as he raised a trembling hand upon your shoulder. “You don’t know if this’ll even work. Ain’t no one here ‘sept for a woman and her kid.”

You turned to look at him, eyes like stone. Unshaken. Unblinking. Taking in the sick and weakened man before you. The man you loved…the man you were determined to save.

“Yes. I’ve already spoken to him and he agreed to help. For a price.”

He was struck with yet another coughing fit; choking on the very air he breathed and your heart clenched at the sight of it.

“Ain’t-“ he coughed again, clearing his throat to catch his breath. “Ain’t worth paying anything for, Y/N.” He wheezed. “I’m a lost cause.”

You slipped your hand in his; the large paw dwarfing your own as you guided him forward towards the wooden steps that led towards the door.

 _You’re worth it._  You thought to yourself. Voice and heart too broken at this point to utter any more words on the matter. Knocking on the door you both waited…or rather you did. Arthur wasn’t expecting anything to happen. Didn’t even think anyone would answer. So it was rather surprising when a very odd looking; very familiar man opened the door.

“Good morning Miss; come on in friends, take a load off.” The man smiled jauntily. “I’ve been expecting you!”

Francis Sinclair. Certainly a man Arthur hadn’t expected to ever see again. Dressed just as strangely as he had been before, his bright eyes crinkled around the edges as he grinned; that same unique birthmark creasing with friendly gesture.

“Your lady here has been writing to me for some time Mr Morgan! A real dolly she is too!” He stated as they followed him inside. “Told me all about your condition and what she wanted to do about it and that was enough to really razz my berries!”

The two of you could barely keep with the pace Sinclair was babbling but you stayed silent none the less. Somewhat take aback by the mess that filled the cabin.

Notebooks and journals all laid out on the table in the center. Strange drawings pinned to the walls and across the windows, blocking out the sunlight. The cabin itself only illuminated by the warming glow of candles. Arthur sat himself down on the nearest chair; his strength waning from the ride you’d taken to get there.

Waving a dismissive hand at the concern on your face as you kneeled beside him.

Francis of course hadn’t noticed a thing; continuing his rambling at a hundred miles a minute with his back turned to the pair of you. Restless hands sifting through loose papers in front of him.

“Took me a while to collar my find but after racking the old noodle, I was able to get what I needed and cut out before the heat was really on!”

“Do you have any idea what this lunatic is talking about?” Arthur said lowly in your ear as you shared a look with the outlaw. You shook your head but moved forward to speak regardless.

“Mr Sinclair. I have what you asked for.” You said firmly and loudly enough to grab the young man’s attention.

He turned swiftly, almost jumping toward you. His bubbling energy quite contagious as you held back a smile of amusement.

“Marvellous doll!” The man jubilated rushing off to the side to receive the very thing you’d come for. Practically snapping the thick notebook from your grasp; trading it for the small satchel he held. Before once again turning his back and quickly began scanning through the pages.

“Ah we’re on the up and up see! Really getting something started now I got the rest of these doll!” He looked up to be greeted by the blank looks on both your and Arthur’s faces. The two of you still clearly having no idea what he was talking about.

But Francis just chuckled and sent a charming wink your way.

“Probably find me a bit of an odd ball right? No to worry my friends…not to worry. Say Sport, your girl is real good to get you this stuff! Wasn’t easy either I can tell you.” Arthur leaned back in his seat as Sinclair addressed him, the confusion still sat upon his frowned brows.

“Just make you take it all okay Sport? Be a real pain in the neck to get more!”

With that the two of you left. Arthur still questioning what the hell was going on and what exactly Sinclair had given you. But you said nothing and waited until you got back to town. To the quiet of your hotel room away from prying eyes.

Opening the bag and emptying the contents down onto the bed, leaving Arthur stunned at what he was looking at.

Boxes and boxes of large tablets and capsules; small vials of clear liquids along with the smallest vaccine needle he had ever seen.

And you both decided that in that moment…Arthur Morgan died from his illness.  _Albert Miller_ however was a strong and healthy young man of thirty eight, living out by the base of the mountains. Living the peaceful life you both deserved.

Your small homestead growing larger with the livestock and the crops that grew by the side of the cabin. The fresh hunted kills hung in the barn ready to be prepared for the winter to come.

You’d visited a doctors office a good year after giving Arthur the medicine. The man preceding to throw you out for wasting his valuable time when he’d confirmed that Arthur was perfectly fit and healthy. And although you were pretty sure the man thought you and Arthur insane from the giddy looks on your faces at the incredible news…you didn’t care.

Just as you didn’t care how Francis Sinclair’s strange medicines had cured Arthur.

Because they had. And that’s all that mattered.


End file.
